Paints
by IAmAShizayaSupporter
Summary: A painter goes through moments when he has his muse. It's usually his or hers latest lover, as it goes through moments when it's happy, when it's dramatic, or even, when it's angry. Izaya Orihara is not exception. **I changed the rating to T, only out of precaution. I realized this was going to be a bit longer than I expected, and would leave the previous rating**
1. The Beginning

**Another, hopefully short, series. I should really finish the alter egos one, but I'm in a bit of block with it. **

**Anyway, this is basically the normal storyline, but Izaya is an artist. As always, tell me what you think!  
**

**_I own nothing copyrighted_  
**

* * *

A painter goes through moments when he has his muse. It's usually his or hers latest lover, as it goes through moments when it's happy, when it's dramatic, or even, when it's angry. Izaya Orihara - an exceptional painter to every extent, who has been for years - is no exception.

The latest phrase, one lasting several years, shows a strange relationship. One of love, one of hatred. One of loving your enemy. And it all started with one painting.

The painting of a tall man. His skin was tan, and his dyed blonde hair was what could be considered windswept. He was grinning at something out of frame, sweet honey-colored eyes glancing at the artist.

* * *

Izaya, his clothes splotched with various shades of paint, felt his heart skip as he let his gaze slide over the painting. It would seem to be okay, to be romantic even, but it just reeked of disappointment from the artist. The blonde in his painting was his enemy. His heart shouldn't be skipping; he shouldn't want the real blonde so badly to be there that it hurt. It would seem, though, that his heart skipping for Shizuo Heiwajima had become the norm. To be quiet frank, it was pissing him _off._

Cursing in his head, Izaya left the painting, pulling off his splotched shirt. He wasn't ready to admit that he was in love with his enemy, it just didn't seem plausible. He had painted Shizuo before, a piece named _"Monster" _of Shizuo yanking out a street sign. It had pissed the blonde to no end, and Izaya had, for a while, basked in knowing he pissed the man off with his art. But lately…

He ran a hand through his hair, lying back on his couch, tired and angry. His painting was easily his best, his subject gorgeous, the colors blending in ways the only happen in paintings. It all pulled together. And, it shouldn't. It should be rage filled and sharp, but this... this painting was of a rare smile, one not even given to the artist, and it was soft. It hinted to, well, love. Izaya admitted defeat as the warm feeling flooded him again.

…

When his assistant came by later, Izaya was collapsed on the sofa. He had been sleeping for some time. The woman moved silently to the painting, careful as the man could wake up any second. She was smiling as she admired the painting, the lazy haze of sunset adding to the effect. She picked up a clipboard, the painting's name scribbled across its page.

"…_Or is he?"_


	2. Reaction

_Well.. I lied. I didn't post as much as I wanted, and stuff just kept keeping me busy. So, well, at least I got this out... right?_

_I'm not that happy with it..  
_

_**I own nothing except my Angry Bird Bracelet**  
_

* * *

When a Painter paints his object of affection and the object is unaware, it is often a pleasant surprise to see one's face in a gallery. Of course, when the object is an enemy, it's slightly... less pleasant. The surprise was less anything, for Shizou Heiwajima, expect for a reason of confusion.

* * *

"What the…?"

* * *

Of course, Izaya didn't mean to send it out. No, that was on the mistake of his assistant, who allowed it to go while he was busy. You can assume how mad this made the painter.

* * *

When Izaya found out that the painting was on display, his yelp was probably heard throughout Japan. His heart raced, as he realized his enemy, the guy he was regrettably in love with, would see this painting. The painting that was making his heart race like a horse, that left a painful twinge in his heart. _Why couldn't, just once, he smile at me like that?_

Izaya had certainly did not stay there long. He did not want to be there with Shizou did see the painting. He didn't want to hear the anger; he didn't want to be caught up in a moment of hatred like that. He was… tired of it.

When he returned home, he set about to his other job: stalking the internet. He was often or not too busy to learn about his towns otherwise. It was the only thing that, for the main part, kept him from pining for his enemy. Once on, however, it wasn't long until Celty had questions.

Something we should know?

No.

C'mon, both Shinra and I know something is up. You owe it to us for tolerating you to tell us when a crazy blonde man shows up at our apartment over a painting.

Ah, well… it's... Complicated.

What about you isn't?

True, true… fine, but you CAN'T tell anyone!

Fine...

* * *

Izaya was relieved to be able to tell someone, and be able to get their opinions. Of course, he almost strangled Shinra when he told Izaya what he knew to be the truth. He still didn't want to admit it. He never wanted to fall in love. Much less with his enemy?

* * *

When Shizou finally showed up at his apartment, it had been roughly a month after the painting had gone out. Fear filled Izaya on the off chance he had figured out the painter's feelings. He needed all his practice at lying to make it through this.

''Took you long enough.''

The anger on the comment was showed clearly on his face, even with the glasses over his honey-colored eyes. Izaya forced a smirk, despite some internal feeling was telling him to make him smile. For the first ever, at him, for him, like in the painting. He tried to ignore this feeling.

"What the hell flea? What was that painting about?"

The anger in his voice was flanked with confusion. Izaya forced his face to go blank, rolling his eyes and going back to typing. He could hear heavy steps as the man walked closer, possibly going for something to throw. Izaya held a steady hand out, as if to stop him, but did not turn away form the computer.

"Think of it as.. A favor." He said calmly, improvising.

"A.. Favor?" Confusion briefly showed stronger than the poisonous anger. Izaya had to admit, the anger was starting to sting a little. Something made Izaya want to keep this up, make the man angrier. A cruel smile spread across his lips, as he turned toward the taller man, almost growling in anger.

"Why, yes, a favor. See, I realized that my first painting was mean. So I painted a new one, mad you look good enough that maybe a draft woman would perhaps fall in love with you. So, you could leave me alone." Izaya stood, walking around his desk and toward the kitchen, gritting his teeth as something inside told him to take back everything he said.

"You see, protozoans like you are fun for a while, but, eventually they get... boring. A waste of time. So, I did a nice thing for you, so you could be a dear and just leave me alone. Deal?" Izaya asked, biting his tongue, relishing in the pain that followed. _My, my Izaya, you've become quite the masochist._

Shizou growled, before seeming to understand what Izaya had offered. A smirk covered his lips. "You? Leave me alone? That won't happen. But, I'll take your deal. If I see you, however, I _will_ kill you." His tone was lethal, and left Izaya feeling not too unlike he just got shot.

As Shizou left, Izaya sighed, leaning back on the counter. The pain swirling in his chest. _I'm so stupid._


	3. Warmth

**I Own Nothing Copyrighted**

******Warning: Death  
**

* * *

Sadness can, and often is, just as strong as a muse as Love. They have similar effects, since both can catch you off guard. They both will grab you, and pull you. The struggle to get out is often or not the most difficult emotional moment you will ever go through if it's extreme enough. However, quite a few people, when faced with these emotions, go with the flow, and let them fade away, if they ever do.

Izaya, however, had it bit worse than others. While struggling with his new found love, His family suffered a tragedy. About two months after his release of "Or is He?", his twin sisters were involved in a terrible accident, one dying immediately, the other, at the time, was in critical condition.

One of his few abstract, and his most prized of those, was painting about this time. One of black, and white, purple, violet, and an overwhelming overcast of blue. Simply called, "Sad" since it was left untitled.

* * *

It was raining. That was really all Izaya knew. He didn't know where he was, much less why he was there. He was numb, a cold numb, a numb he did not like. He was never necessarily close to his sisters but losing one and the possibility of losing the other, all on top of his own drama with Shizuo? It was destroying his fragile mind.

Izaya didn't care where he was, or that he was soaked. He didn't care that his phone in his pocket was probably screwed. He didn't care about anything. He just wanted... Warmth. Dryness. He wanted to be back home, painting. Both of his sisters alive and well. There was water one his face, streaming, but he wasn't sure if it was tears or rain. He just... hurt. A weird hurt, one that didn't make sense.

Who knew this Monster had feelings?

"I-iiii-zaya... What are you doing here?" A voice alerted Izaya that he did, in fact, have other senses. It took a moment to register who it was, and what that ' who ' had said. It took even longer to register that the voice wasn't mad.

"Shizuo..." Izaya said, or, well mumbled. It barely came out, and was flat. No feelings, no emotion. He realized briefly that it was no longer raining on him.

"Izaya, you're soaked." The voice sighed. It was tolerant, at best, but at least it wasn't mad. Izaya nodded, numbly. He was no focused on nothing but the rain falling just past the umbrella's reach, and vague feelings of warmth that the deep baritone voice gave him. He craved more warmth than that, and he might just be crazy enough to ask for it at the moment.

There was a sigh, then a surprisingly gentle push forward. "Come on, you can, this one time only, come to my house to warm up." Izaya was guided into a small apartment or, actually, a small bachelor pad really. Izaya started when the sound of keys hitting the nearby table reached his ears.

"You can... borrow some of my clothes or... something. Since yours are soaked. Um... Stay here." As Shizuo left the room, any warmth that the near-frozen artist had gained was lost, and it didn't take long for the tears to come back.

"Okay, I don't really have any clothes that would fit you but... uh... Izaya?" Izaya's head jolted up, his blurry red eyes focusing on the blonde the best they could. He tried to stop crying, failing. With a last resort, he tried to hide his head under his hood.

He heard footsteps, and could feel himself began to tremble, part for being soaked to the bone and the shame of being caught crying. He heard Shizuo sigh from just above him. He felt strong arms circle around him, he heard a smooth voice saying words of comfort.

Most of All, He felt the warmth.

He _craved _the warmth.

He wanted more.

"S-shizuo..." The name came out with a stutter that sounded weird, and felt weird on his tongue. He felt calming hands stop stroking his back. He heard a 'hm?'.

Izaya pushed himself aware from the loosened arms gently, just enough to see the blonde's face. Shizuo's honey eyes were partly covered by his bangs, but he had an odd look on his face. Warmth. Izaya craved the warmth, and, he craved the man who gave it to him. Was he just hungry enough to ask?

"S-shizuo, could-would you do me a f-favor? J-just tonight?" Shizuo's eyebrows arched up, surprise filling his face. Slowly, and obviously confused, he nodded. Izaya swallowed, then pushed his way fulled out of Shizuo's arms.

"Can... could.. you... Just for tonight, Shizuo.. can.. can.. will.. you.. act like.. you love me?"

* * *

Welp. It wasn't the best. It wasn't the worst. And it only took me... six hours. Wow.. thats.. sad. Any-who, hope you enjoyed the Delicious cliffhanger and Numb! Izaya.

As always, please leave feedback. I do read it, and from here on out, I will be responding.

Maru de Kusanagi: Glad that my stupid Izaya is interesting! I work hard on making him equally stupid and interesting X3

Keiko-Uchiha: Yes, he is very artist-y. Glad you liked it!

Love-girl2015: Oh stop, you're making me blush! Hope you're still happy with this story. My writing style varies a bit ;)

isthisparadise: First of all, yes, this is paradise. Second of all, thank you so much for the thoughtful review! I'm glad you liked it, and hope you still like it!


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